Author: Sangbad

A poet, an author, a reviewer--in one word I'm a literaturist (means one who is trying almost everything that Literature is made of). My books are available at Amazon. I'm a Bengali, born and raised in Kolkata, West Bengal.

Last year November my blog had completed its two years. Though I haven’t been able to post on that day; and that’s all credit goes to my dear companion, my laptop. It is being with me for last six or seven years. Yeah, it’s a long time. But, this post is not for Mr.Laptop;…

“Hey hon, do you remember that picture…the picture you had shown me last week atthe doctor’s chamber…the one from the travel magazine…a man and a womanstanding by the Lake…what was it name…the name was…” “Hush…doctor had said to be quiet…don’t stress yourself…and I do remember the picture…but, not the name of the Lake…” “We’ll go…

I opened my wallet for tenth time or eleventh–I’ve lost count; there are not much there. The rumor was true now it seems; the market crashed and many are kicked out; when I’ll be paid my salary or whether it will happen sooner, no surety of it. I had called her telling I’ll be late,…

The night was full moon as it was…is it “would be” a century ago or few years ago, or, is it “will”…I couldn’t decipher the point of the time I had looked at that transparent sign of the house–the wizard hat in the square fixed to a pole–last time…it couldn’t be the future because present…

The darkness that’s hidden in the blue dark of the night The silence that’s hold the calmness of the young spring They all whisper the hymn; the hymn of the nocturnal long. The ache that clapping on the wall of the my senses– For not being with you sussurate somehow I’m yours, your’re mine. I…